Penzi’s novella WARM HONEY entitled CRACK (Part 1)
[Read the revised version of Crack on penzierotica.com]
Here I am curled up in my bed going through withdrawal again. I promised myself that I would stay away from him and not let my resistance down. Peeled away like the rind from a juicy sweet tangerine is how I feel. I say tangerine because that’s how what happens to me when I’m under his spell. Sweet, sticky, and juicy inside just waiting to bust my sticky sweetness all over his tongue finger, and his gorgeous chocolate dick. Um, Um, the dick. I can’t think about that dick without damn near going into a convulsion or trembling like a nervous wreck.
There are no words to describe how his tongue is like a magic wand that transforms me into a passionate, insatiable, seductress. I feel like I’m in a trance and a state of pure ecstasy whenever he runs his tongue all over my body. His fingers hypnotize me from the slightest touch or caress. Something as simple as tracing his fingers across my skin make me twitch uncontrollably. He has even noticed my body’s reaction to him so much that he knows exactly what to do to keep me losing my mind.
That’s why I am disappointed in myself and balled up in the fetal position going thru an ecstasy induced dick withdrawal. That’s the only way I can describe what I am experiencing. I know it sounds crazy, or does it? I have given him the nickname Crack after I didn’t see or hear from him in three weeks and I began to feel like a damn drug fiend. At first I was angry but my mind keeps switching back and forth between the pain I feel from not being in his presence to memories of moments passionate lovemaking. Throughout all my hurt, my body has maintained a constant level of hot sexual fire for him, yet at the same time I exhibit the signs of a druggy trying to get their next hit of crack. I go through fits of running out batteries for my clitoral stimulator called a bullet, calling him so much that I am beginning to feel crazy or peeking out my living room window to see if there’s any signs that he’s home. I have never been this crazy over a man before.
Oh yeah, I probably should’ve mentioned earlier that Crack lives in the same apartment complex as me but across the courtyard, in the center of the complex. Yeah, I know I should have never gone there and gotten involved with someone who lives too close to where I rest my head. I especially should know this since my friend Umoja went through something similar. She warned me about crack, a term she used for men who made women feel so good that they go mad and turn into fiends. However, she left the part out about your panties being drenching wet from constant desire. Imagine being starved of your favorite food and having it right within you reach but not being able to get any of it. Torture right?
Every time the sun goes down and I notice lights in his apartment, all I can imagine is all the many ways till daylight that we can make love. We don’t exactly have to make love neither. I wouldn’t mind him coming up to me from behind, nibbling on my neck before slamming me against a wall and ripping my soaked underwear from my trembling frame. Yes, in every fantasy and every real life occurrence I tremble and my teeth chatter as if it’s a cold winter morning.
But back to what I was saying before I got sidetracked as I often do where he’s concerned, after getting over the assault on my senses I would imagine him inserting himself viciously while my palms rested against the wall for support. He would then command my body mercilessly till I could barely stand any longer. Then, he would withdraw himself, turn me around to face him, then drop to his knees to suckle on my engorged clit till I cum so hard that my juices run over his lips and down his neck and chest.
Is that my phone I hear ringing?
No, that was unfortunately just another trait of this addiction. I am always thinking that I hear the phone, my doorbell ringing, or him tapping at my door. Sometimes I feel like my psyche is playing some sort of cruel joke on my mind and sensibilities. I know that I will drive myself insane with us living so close to one another.
Crack is one of those men that more than likely has many lovers whom he leaves addicted in his wake. I have seen a couple of women from being so damn nosy peeking out my window. Also, one day I pulled up in the parking lot and they were leaning against her car hugging and kissing. I found that interesting because he said he didn’t have a serious girlfriend but I guess he doesn’t mind public displays of affection. As a matter of fact, I’ve seen this young lady’s car parked quite a few times over the past two months but whatever.
You think I am blind and a fool right? I sure am. This is yet another downfall to this undying craving in my loins. I would rather block out the fact that someone is spending way more time than I ever get and moving in on my territory. Yes, I said territory because I am territorial by my Scorpio nature. I once read in an astrology book that the ruling planet in Scorpio is Pluto which is associated with regeneration and obsession. The obsession part would probably explain my behavior. Umoja gave me the book on my birthday last November and although I don’t believe in that type of stuff it was mostly accurate about my sign. I believe that I need to focus on regenerating and changing my situation because I am sick over wondering what it is that she does better than me that would make him want her more than me.
My schedule is open when it comes to him whenever and wherever he wants me. I know a woman loses the mystery about herself when she becomes to readily available to a man but I just can’t help it. I am overcome by lust and in constant need of the level of pure passion so hot and steamy that mirrors become fogged in whatever room that we are in.
I just know it’s not in my imagination that we are both taking one another to heavenly levels unknown to only those lucky enough to be joined with someone as passionate and insatiable as you. The kind of passion where every, and I mean every one of your fantasies known and unknown are fulfilled. To think that I have had some of the best sex in my life before him was earth shattering to know that all along I’d been harboring a part of myself that I was unable to experience with them. How could every kiss, touch, lick, and thrust from start to finish be so utterly erotically fulfilling every time.
There’s one night that will be seared into my memory for the rest of my life….
Crack by Penzi is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.